ColtSmoke
by Dubious Dick
Summary: Flint Locks is the youngest member of the Apple family. He was adopted at a young age by Granny Smith herself, after his parents abandoned him for unknown reasons. Times of peril are soon to come to Equestria, and his unique firearm skills will be needed.
1. Chapter 1

**ColtSmoke**

**Prologue**

**'P**rincess Celestia? The scroll you requested.' Princess Celestia raised herself from her throne, and gracefully descended the red carpeted staircase that lay in front of her. The alicorn commanded the perfect mix of authority and beauty, her head held high and her multicolored hair sparkling in the blazing dawn. She approached her squire, whom had previously spoken. He was holding himself in the bowing position, letting the princess know he respected her in every possible way. Celestia calmly grasped the scroll the squire held out in front of him, and withdrew slowly. Then, she lowered her head even with the squire's, and whispered  
'Rise, loyal subject. Your efficiency and speed are greatly appreciated. You may leave.' The squire slowly stood upright, before turning and leaving the throne room. Celestia ascended the stairs, and once again placed herself on her throne. She turned to the navy blue alicorn that stood beside her, and began to read aloud from the scroll she held out in front of her.  
'In time, an era of harm will rise. Once the cycle of the chosen one's awakening is complete, a time of war will spread across Equestria. Violence will once again become known, and even the elements of harmony themselves will fail to restore peace. There is, however, a Yin to this Yang. If this chosen one's life is ended, than the evil shall disperse almost immediately.' Celestia rolled up the scroll, before looking out one of the stained glass windows to grace the chamber's walls. The time was soon to come to fruition. Celestia looked the other alicorn in the eyes. 'Sister, it is time for action.'

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**T**he sun pierced the clouds like a needle through leather, casting brilliant rays of light that scattered across a vibrant meadow. On the field, beneath an apple tree, a young stallion lay on his back, staring up at the beautiful sky. He had a chocolate brown coat, with a pitch black mane. His eyes shone a humbling amber, and they sparkled in the sunshine like polished glass. He chewed idly on a stalk of hay, letting his mind float through his carefree thoughts. He didn't have a care in the world. Or, not for long, at least. He heard a cry ring out through the breezy air, causing him to jump in shock.  
'Flint? FLINT! Get yer flank in here and help me stack these hay bales!' The young stallion rolled onto his stomach, and pushed himself up onto his feet. He let out an audible sigh, as he trotted slowly towards his family's barn. He entered the red wooden construct, to see his step-sister Applebloom stacking an impressive pile of hay bales. She was technically his great niece or something similar, as Flint had been adopted by Granny Smith at a young age, after his parents had abandoned him in Ponyville for unknown reasons. He had since come to think of Applebloom and her sister Applejack as his big sisters and their brother Big Macintosh as his own, as they had all been there for him for as long as he could remember. Granny Smith had passed five years earlier, and they had all been supporting each other ever more since. Together, they were the Apple family, even if his name was Flint Locks. It wasn't easy being an Apple; it was hard work that took you through blood, sweat and tears. Even still, he had been identified as the laziest of the family, always daydreaming and finding an excuse to slack off from work. He often wondered if it was because the Apple family's dedication was a genetic trait, but that usually left him feeling alien to his own family and reminded him of his true parents. He never would find out what happened to them, as their names weren't ever even recorded by the orphanage.  
'Flint!' The voice brought him out of his head, like a wet splash of ice cold water. 'Were y'all daydreaming again?'  
'Yeah, what's it to you?' He spoke in a raspy voice, with a different accent to the rest of his family. He lacked any form of a southern drawl whatsoever.  
'Y'all are supposed to be helpin' me with these hay bales, dingus!' Applebloom was only two years older than Flint, leaving her a teenager like he was. She was always around to help though, unlike most teenage girls. She shared many of her traits with Applejack; hard working, dedicated, and often bit off more than she could chew with her workload. Her patience, however, was much thinner than Applejack's ever was, dating back to when she was desperately trying to force her cutie mark upon herself, along with her best friends Sweetie Bell and Scootaloo. Scootaloo had always pissed off Flint, often just treating him like a child. Sweetie Bell, however, was actually quite close to Flint, and often stood up for him against Scootaloo. This usually caused a bit of bickering between them, but never anything serious. Flint had always joked behind Scootaloo's back that her cutie mark would be a boot, to show her getting a kick up the flank.  
'Darn it Flint! Move your flank! Start stacking, boy!' Flint sighed, and started stacking hay bales, letting his subconscious handle his task like a robot, while he drifted into his mind once again.

* * *

**F**lint thought about the day he got HIS cutie mark, a bullet casing with smoke coming from it. It was much to Applebloom's dismay that he earned his before she did, or in fact before Scootaloo and Sweetie Bell. He had been cleaning a family heirloom one day as part of Spring cleaning; an old musket that had belonged to Granny Smith's father. Firearms of any kind were seldom seen throughout Equestria, as most were melted down after the times of chaos and war had ended. This one was a relic, kept because it had saved Granny Smith's father's life from an escaped Tartarus demon many years ago. Flint also found a box of gunpowder, some caps and some minie balls in a drawer nearby. He had snuck out later that night, to try the rifle out. He went out into the orchard, and raised the rifle skyward. He had a good knowledge of firearms, as their design and mechanics had always intrigued him. He knew how to reload this particular model, luckily. He had torn open the gunpowder and poured it down the barrel after cleaning it with the ramming rod, placed a minie ball inside the barrel, again using the ramming rod to make sure it was lodged against the gunpowder, placed a cap over the nipple, and cocked it. He had lowered the rifle, and aimed at a small hill not far off. He then exhaled, before pulling the trigger. Suddenly, there had been a piercing crack that was louder than thunder, and the muzzle lit up with a short lived blaze. Flint had felt such excitement, a throbbing surge of adrenaline coursed throughout his body. The shot almost hit its target, landing only half a meter to the left. After finally calming himself down, Flint had begun to feel a tingling on his flank. He looked down, to see that he now bore an empty bullet casing upon it with smoke rising from the top. He had found his love for raw explosive force mechanics that day, and had never forgotten that first shot. Ever since, he had been training to shoot in competitions, hoping to one day live up to his sister Applejack's record of blue ribbons won.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**'T**hat's the last of 'em!' Applebloom jumped down from the top of her last stack, causing a thud and an explosion of dust around her landing spot. The dust floated in the barn, scattering the light to produce beautiful sun beams to be omitted from the slanted window shutters. Flint placed his last hay bale on the top of his pile, finishing off the entire load. Like his sister, he tried to jump down from the top of his stack. He managed to safely land, but lacked any finesse in doing so, as his legs sprawled awkwardly out from his body. He looked up and smiled at his sister, who gave a giggle at his silliness. Unlike most typical siblings, the Apple family never bickered between each other, as their bonds were too valuable to risk over petty rivalry. The only arguments that ever really occurred were work related, and in those rare instances only factual 'insults' were ever exchanged, such as doubting one's working ability. However, this didn't mean Flint wasn't always trying to impress his siblings as opposed to attempting to outdo them. He had been doing daredevil tricks ever since he was a young colt, jumping off of small buildings, rolling down hills; you name it. He shared this trait with Applebloom, as he was never far behind when her and the cutie mark crusaders were off trying something dangerous and stupid. He had a taste for adventure, and breaking boundaries. He wasn't exactly a rebel, but he sure as hay didn't like being told what he couldn't do.

* * *

**'Y**'all comin'?' Applebloom held the barn door open, waiting for Flint to snap out of his idle state.  
'Oh, yeah. Forgot we'd finished.'  
'Ladies first!' She beckoned, and Flint walked out into the cool breeze.  
'In your dreams, _**Crap**_plebloom!'  
She laughed, catching up to Flint as they began to trek back to their home. 'Are you doing shtick with the CMC tomorrow?'  
'I told y'all not to call us that no more, Flint!' She playfully thumped him in the shoulder. Even though it was soft, a punch from a farm mare still hurt, no matter how hard they did it.  
'Owww, quit it!' Flint whined, thumping his sister back.  
'Hey, y'all got a lotta nerve hittin' a lady, but even more hittin' me.'  
'So you're saying you aren't a girl?'  
'No, I.. Aw, stop talkin' clever shit to me Flint.'  
'Y'know Applejack would make you rinse your mouth out if she heard you swearing.'  
'Yeah, I know. Big Mac would probably just laugh.'  
'Y'know he would.' They both laughed again, and continued to thump each other and throw light hearted insults until they made it back to the house. It was a grand sight, with it's red painted wooden walls, outlined at the edges with white, that rose for a whole three stories. They had renovated a whole two years ago, using the money from a particularly successful zap apple season, when they had discovered they could make zap apple cider. The recipe was declared a work of art by food critics from Canterlot, and with widespread publicity ponies came from all around the land for a taste. This meant they could bump up their prices, much to the disappointment of a particularly broke Rainbow maned friend of Applejack's. Her name was Rainbow Dash, and was Scootaloo's idle. Although Flint held contempt towards Scootaloo, he also drew inspiration from Rainbow Dash, with her insane flying skills and carefree attitude. He wished he could be a Pegasus, so that he could roam the skies, darting between the clouds and fighting against the wind. This would never be anything more than a dream, however, and he would have to make his own ways of getting adrenaline fuelled adventure. After all, his curiosity into the unknown had earned him his cutie mark.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**F**lint and Applebloom finally opened the door to their house and stepped inside, only to be greeted by nagging.  
'Darn it, Flint! Y'all tracked mud into the house!'  
Flint looked sheepishly up at the owner of the voice; an orange mare with blond mane and tail worn in ponytails (appropriately), with green eyes and a signature Stetson hat.  
'Sorry Applejack, didn't realize I was kicking up the dirt on the way from the barn.'  
She sighed, and let out a forgiving smile.  
'S'alright, Flint, as long as y'all clean it up before dinner. Applebloom, help your brother out. Nudge him if he starts daydreaming again.'  
'Yes ma'am!' Applebloom raised her hoof to her forehead in a joke salute. Flint turned towards a cabinet next to the inside of the porch, and retrieved from within it an old, chestnut handled mop. It was quite fancy for a mop, and it had been with the family longer than he had. It was Granny Smith's parents who owned it originally, and passed it down through the generations. Flint thought it was a bit strange to have a mop for a family heirloom, but it had stood the test of time and remained good as new for cleaning. Flint also filled a tin bucket with warm water, and proceeded to mop up the dirty puddle in the entrance. He repeated the process of mopping and draining until the floor was shining and clean again. Flint rinsed off the mop in a fresh bucket of water, and placed the items back in the cabinet. They fit snugly, and Flint closed it again, his work done. He turned to his sister, who was slumped against the wall.  
'Wow, I'm impressed; you didn't go off in a daze once!'  
'Cram it, you!' he laughed, as they walked down the hallway.

* * *

**T**he scent of freshly baked apple pie filled the air, and the two siblings walked towards the source with their noses up in the air. They followed the scent to the pantry, where as usual, Applejack was working the oven with a shiny apron on. She pulled out a glowing pie, the pastry of a perfect consistency and golden colour, and it radiated warmth in an aromatic aura. Flint felt his stomach begin to growl, as he tore himself away from the sight of the pie by heading into the dining room. Applebloom stayed behind a few extra seconds, before following her brother. Big Macintosh was nowhere to be seen, and the table felt almost empty with the two of them. Five minutes passed in silence, as Flint and Applebloom eagerly awaited their sister to join them with their meal. When she entered the room, Flint didn't hesitate to ask her about the absence of their brother.  
'I thought I told y'all, Big Mac's doin' handiwork over at Mr. Dick's house, because he's the only one strong enough to haul in a pool table, a king size bed and a news press.'  
'Gees, what does he want all that for?'  
'I have no idea, but I know he wants to do something about 'tweets' with the news press.'  
'That guy is weird. Wouldn't it make sense to just take stuff in one at a time and not need help?'  
'Y'all know how anxious that guy is to get things done, after everything that happened, and how your brother can be a pushover sometimes. Now eat up, your pie's gonna go cold.'  
Flint took his sister's advice, and began to eat his apple pie. It tasted divine, and the hot apple blended with the sweet, soft pastry perfectly. All of Flint's brainpower was now directed towards enjoying his meal.


End file.
